


Hook, Line, and Sinker

by amongthieves



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:51:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6123085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amongthieves/pseuds/amongthieves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy's father took important information to the grave and Eggsy is left in wake of the consequences. Kingsman agent Harry Hart has come to repay his debt and keep Eggsy safe, upon learning that the important information that's been kept secret isn't long gone. In fact, it's been in England all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this on and off since August of 2015. I'm only now getting the courage to edit and and post it up on AO3! I have about seven chapters completed as of the time I submit this first chapter — I'll be able to add them gradually after I do my edits. Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> (ps. I'm notorious for dumb typos, so please point them out if you catch any!)

_"Eggsy's life is irrevocably tied to yours, Harry. You don't get to decide that, especially after what happened to his father."_

—

Harry Hart was a patient man. On missions, he could sit still for hours on end, waiting to catch a mere glimpse of the target. Merlin had suggested he move on from espionage and work in animal photography. There was something about him that was predatory, that made the other agents dread working with him. There had been stories of torture missions, where Harry had taken the brunt ofthe damage and walked it off as though it was commonplace for him after extraction. The Kingsman all had their shining traits, but everyone admired Harry’s patience. 

And then he met Eggsy Unwin.

—

“I’ll fuckin’ kill ya!” Poodle yelled as he held his head, the broken bottle scattering all across the floor. Eggsy smirked before jumping over a table, just missing the reach of Dean. 

“Run out that door, boy, and when your mum gets home…”

Eggsy paused, his hand on the doorknob. The anger that had been boiling, and rising in his chest from moments ago suddenly halted to a stop. The consequences of his actions didn’t even cross his mind. His main concern had been to get away from Poodle’s grubby hands. He didn’t need to explain another bruise to Jamal. 

“We’ll give her the thrashing you deserved.”

Eggsy lets his hand fall and sighs before Dean grabs his neck from behind, whacking the back of his head with his hand.

“You make one sound, and I’ll be sure your mother gets hers too.”

Eggsy bites his lip, biting back any groan as Dean whips him around and punches his jaw. He doesn’t fall to the ground. He holds his place and gasps as Dean sucker punches him, causing him to bend over. A hard knock on the back of his head from Dean’s elbow finally lands him on the floor and he strangles back a cough.

“Not one sound, ya hear me? Not a sound.”

—

When there’s a knock at the door, Dean shoves Eggsy to the couch. He’s bruised and beaten, sore beyond belief, and bleeding from the corner of his lip. Dean has learned how to hit without leaving too much of a mark, but this time, Eggsy doesn’t get that convenience. The door opens and his mother walks in, holding Daisy close to her.

“Is everything alright in here?” Michelle steps in cautiously, already knowing the answer. There’s no doubt she could hear the beatings from outside. The place was shit for soundproofing. 

“Of course, luv.” Dean welcomed her with open arms and kissed her on the cheek. “Eggsy got beat on the street, we were just offerin’ him a place to sit down and rest, yeah Eggsy?”

“Yeah. Nothin’ to worry ‘bout, mum.” Eggsy keeps his head down, and Michelle looks at Dean, who smiles back at her.

“Alrighty then, dear.”

“Hey Eggsy, can you go pick up some smokes at the store? We’re all out.”

Eggsy stands up slowly, wincing slightly as he does so, and stares at Dean.

“Here’s the money. Now get goin’.” He fishes ten quid out of his pocket and holds it out to Eggsy, who takes it and hobbles out the door, giving his mum a kiss on the way out.

Once the door closes behind him, he doubles over and groans, wheezing out a lungful of air. Even through the ache, none of his anger has subsided. He’s livid. There’s no way he’s going back into that apartment, unless he wants his mum to pay the price - which will never be an option. She’s been through enough with that prick. He just has to find a way to get rid of him without being overtly obvious.

Eggsy takes a walk, fighting the sharp pain in his chest from the kicking blows. He regrets not putting on a hoodie as he makes his way down the stairs, feeling the cold night’s bite against his bare arms. 

Down the road, he spots Rottweiler smoking a cigarette by himself. He groans - not exactly what he wanted to find. There’s no point in turning around and drawing more attention to himself so he continues, trying not to show a limp. As he draws closer and sees the the glow of the supermarket store, Rottweiler smirks smugly at him.

“Did Dean give you ol’ smackaroo? The one two? You done you right and proper, yeah?”

“Yeah, he totally fucked me good. He’s a real faggot. Your guv’s a real slag.”

Rottweiler narrows his eyes and flicks his cigarette to the ground, in Eggsy’s direction. “You wanna say that again, Eggsy? You can hardly walk straight.”

“You’re not helping your case, ya knob,” Eggsy grins back at him, spitting at the chav’s feet. He can see the sudden anger flare up in the idiot’s face, watches him as he moves towards Eggsy and grabs him by the collar.

“You know what, Eggsy? I ain’t gonna hit ‘cha. ‘Cause this ain’t the worst to come, ya hear me?” Rottweiler sneers and pushes Eggsy away, watches him stumble away with a laugh. “You’re so fucked, Eggsy. You and your mum are so fucked.” Hearing Rottweiler talk about his mum ignites a sudden burst of vile, pure hatred in Eggsy as he lunges towards the boy and jumps at him, taking him down to the ground. Even against all the pain in his body, he winds his fist back and slams it into Rottweiler’s nose. A spray of blood signals a broken nose. The surprise was all it took for Eggsy to gain advance and knock him out. After a moment of Rottweiler going still, Eggsy removes himself and stands, looking around.

“Shit… Shit…” He takes out his phone and quickly dials 911. “Yeah, there’s a bloke just lyin’ here, looks as though he got the shit beat outta him. Still breathin’, I think.” And Eggsy hangs up after giving them the address and moves on. Slightly jogs his way to the nearest fast food joint and pops into the bathroom to wash the blood off his hands. No one bats an eye at him. Typical in this neighbourhood. The blood swirls in the water down the drain, and Eggsy doesn’t feel any better.

As he exits the washroom, another man dressed in black enters beside him, bumping their shoulders.

“Watch it, prick.” And even though Eggsy doesn’t have much energy left, it won’t stop his mouth from telling people to sod off. The door closes behind him and he leaves the burger joint and inhales sharply once he stands outside, shoving his hands into his pocket. A couple droplets of rain hit the brim of his hat and he groans in frustration, kicking a nearby pop bottle. It skitters over and hits the feet of a well dressed man and Eggsy quickly averts his eyes, walking by without making any eye contact. As he turns onto a darker street, he quickly checks over his shoulder to see the man from the fast food place walking a fair bit behind him in the same direction.

Eggsy’s been followed before and it’s never been a problem for him, but it makes his stomach churn with unease. There isn’t much he can do - all he wants to do is sit down and have a cold pint. He tries to subtly pick up the pace, but his ribs and hips ache in protest. 

As he walks down past rows of houses, the trees hanging over the street, he hears a gunshot.

His body freezes with fear before a hot agony tears into his shoulder. 

“Are you fucking serious?!” He shouts after a series of obscenities and grabs at his shoulder, feeling blood soaking through his shirt. The man behind him walks up to him, grumbling something about missing the shot before he kicks Eggsy down to the concrete, where he hits hard and his whole body is overcome with pain. He feels a foot press against his back and if he hadn’t been so battered down, his marine training could have really come in use. If only he could manage to breathe before it was all over.

His mum. Daisy. Shit. God fucking damnit. He couldn’t die without getting them out of that shithole, he couldn’t-

Once again, he checks over his shoulder, ready to jump at the gun aimed at his head but instead, the man is looking down the street. Eggsy follows his gaze to see a man walking in a trench coat, face hidden by the darkness. Just as Eggsy’s potential killer takes a shot, the man down the road opens up an umbrella facing towards them. Eggsy wants to laugh. What a poor sod. 

Before he knows it, the man that was ready to end his life is suddenly running in the direction of the umbrella with a surprising amount of urgency. Eggsy tries to push himself up but falls back on the concrete, staring at the street lamp above him. It makes the light dance in his eyes. 

He hears the sound of three silenced shots, knowing that the man with the umbrella is dead. And Eggsy is next. He palms at his pocket, wishing he had brought out his knife tonight. The one goddamn night that he’s going to be killed, he’s going to be put down like a dog. He listens to the footsteps walk towards him and he presses his hand back against his wound, groaning.

“What makes you so bloody special?” There’s a pause, a moment where Eggsy’s gut churns and a hot flash passes over him. “Wait- Eggsy?” 

Eggsy squints as his vision swims, and the posh British voice hovering over him has no face. He merely fades out and Eggsy eyes come to a close.


	2. Emissary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short bridging chapter! Next one will either be tomorrow or Wednesday.

“Mum! Daisy!” Eggsy wakes with a start, jolting upright before he moans in pain. He immediately grabs his shoulder, feeling the gauze wrapped around it. The sudden memories of last night flash into his mind and he's scrambling out of a bed that's not his own. The sheets have been tinged with blood and he's been stripped down to his boxers. The room he's in is modernly classic, a heart rate monitor hooked up to his arm. 

It looks like a hospital room, but with a homely touch. 

There's a collection of butterflies on the wall, their wings beautifully on display. Although, all Eggsy can think about is he might be up for display next. He frantically starts pulling at the tubes in his arms and the monitor begins to spike before it flatlines. As he’s getting up, searching for his clothes, the door opens and a man stands before him. His sleeves are rolled up and he’s wearing black pants, tortoiseshell glasses. His hair is combed back, he’s smiling, and Eggsy feels at ease — the man doesn’t look like an absolute serial killer.

“Who the bleedin’ hell are you?” Eggsy still stands on guard, stepping backwards.

“My name is Harry Hart and please, sit back down. You may have stabilized, but the shock to your system is still sinking in.” His accent is posh, slightly familiar, and Eggsy has the sudden urge to very impolitely tell this man to ‘fuck off’. 

“What happened? Why am I here?”

“I know you have questions, so let’s discuss it over tea. You are in no danger here, Eggsy. I assure you.”

“How do you know my fuckin’ name?”

“I knew your father. Now wait here, and sit.”

Eggsy slowly moves back to the bed and sits down hesitantly. He checks his phone as he waits. No messages. Not a single person probably even knows about him being shot. The pain is there, but Eggsy hardly feels the edge, most likely due to the anesthetics Harry had given him, or at least whatever’s in the clear bag. Could be something completely different. The questions begin to pile up in his head and it’s starting to give him a slight headache. Quickly, Eggsy shoots off a text to his mum.

_ you alright? _

As he waits for a reply, he gets dressed. His old clothes have been thrown out, and a new sweatshirt and shirt have been provided for him, in his size. Harry returns back to the infirmary with a tray of two cups, the steam rising from the tea.

“All I have is a breakfast blend, if that is alright with you? I’ve been meaning to go the shop.”

Eggsy nods and accepts the cup before setting it down beside him. Harry pulls up a plush black leather chair and sits down. The man sips at his tea for a moment and sets it down on a small table. Eggsy can hardly sit still, mind brimming with worry for his own safety.

“I figure you have questions, so please, let me explain. As I mentioned before, my name is Harry Hart. I worked with your father as a Kingsman agent. I figured you didn’t want to go to the hospital to deal with the authorities, so I spared you and brought you here, where I bandaged stitched up the wound. You were quite lucky it was merely a flesh wound, Eggsy. Although, not quite as lucky to be shot. I’m assuming it was your first time?”

Eggsy stares at him blankly.

“Right. Well then-”

“Why were you following me? Why was that other sod following me? What the fuck is going on?” Eggsy leans back, propping himself up with his hands. His shoulder stings before becoming an ache, and he tries his hardest to make it look like it’s really not bothering him. He can tell by the expression on Harry’s face that he’s not buying it. Eggsy slightly regrets pulling out the IV’s. Out the corner of his eye, he can see the clear morphine hanging in its bag. Most definitely a morphine drip, with how hazy he’s feeling. “How did you know my father?”

There’s a flicker of hurt across Harry’s face when Eggsy asks his last question, but it’s gone as quick as it arrived. 

“Your father, Eggsy, worked with me. I’m part of an international service called the Kingsman - your father was too. We’re an intelligence agency, used to-”

“So you’re like Bond, yeah? 007? You’ve got cool gadgets and shit, yeah? Then why the fuck didn’t you stop that prick from shooting me?”

“Eggsy. Please do not interrupt me again.” Eggsy scowls but motions a zipper dragging across his lips. Harry sighs. “The man, we’re assuming, was sent for something of your father’s. That’s what we don’t understand, either. We’re not sure what your father was hiding, and why these men want it. The man was sent into town to extract a package - I never figured it would have been you. It wasn’t hard for him to find you, Eggsy. You haven’t exactly been the best mannered boy, have you? Punching men in the middle of the streets, using drugs, drinking excessively-”

“Who the bloody hell are you to judge?”

Harry looks at him before standing, walking over to him. He points at the necklace around Eggsy’s neck. “May I?”

Reluctantly, Eggsy pulls the chain off his neck and hands Harry the necklace. “Twelve, nineteen, ninety-seven. Have you ever tried calling this number?”

“No. Haven’t needed to.”

“Do you remember the code?”

“The what?” 

“The code phrase, Eggsy. If you were ever in a bind…”

Eggsy reaches back for the necklace, Harry keeps it away from him. “Oxfords not brogues, yeah? I remember. It was left behind from my father.”

“No, Eggsy. It was left behind by me. I owe your father a debt, and this is it.” Harry holds the necklace up to him. “And now that debt means so much more. I should have known it but these men are after you, Eggsy. It is my due responsibility to assure that nothing happens to you.”

Eggsy laughs. “Well look at me, won’tcha? I’ve already been shot in the shoulder - some protector you are. Besides, I don’t need protectin’. I can take care of myself, thanks.” Eggsy slips off the bed and picks up his wallet from the side table. “And you can give that back.” He looks at the pendant, which Harry offers back to him. Eggsy snatches it quickly and throws it back around his neck, hiding it behind his shirt.

“Eggsy, you need to stay.”

“I don’t have to do anythin’, old man.” He snorts and heads for the door. Harry doesn’t stop him, so Eggsy lets himself out. 


	3. Adrenaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thankful and happy for all the feedback so far! I'm looking at every kudos and reading every comment. Glad to say there's a little action in this chapter, so enjoy!

Eggsy finds himself at Jamal’s place, where his friend lets him in without question. Dean probably knows about the beatdown he gave Rottweiler, so Jamal lets him crawl into his bed no problem. 

“Bruv… what the hell happened to ya?”

“Long story.” Eggsy throws the sweater to the floor and pulls the bed sheets back. 

“Send me a text when you’re good, yeah?”

Eggsy groans in pain when his body hits the mattress. “Yeah, sounds good.” And he listens to Jamal shut the door behind him, his feet thumping down the steps. There’s an argument between him and his mother - the walls are paper thin in these houses - about Eggsy showing up in his state, but Jamal always manages to convince her that everything’s okay. 

Finally, Eggsy’s phone buzzes with a text message.

_ hi luv, im ok. dean passed out on the couch last nite. hope all is well xoxo _

He heaves a sigh of relief. His phone slide off his phone and onto the floor. Just a small rest before he heads home. His mind’s still hazy from the drugs, and it makes him smile slightly. Harry fucking Hart… Just who the fuck does he think he is?

\---

When Eggsy finally returns home in the evening, his mother’s eyes fill with alarm and Dean’s sneer is immediately focused on him.

“What the fuck happened to you, kid?”

“Nothin’.” This earns a laugh from Dean and he shrugs as Eggsy goes past him.

“Serves ya right, prick. You’re lucky someone called the ambulance on my boy - otherwise you would have been nine feet under tonight.” Eggsy flickers his eyes over to Dean, with Michelle sitting beside him, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Night mum. I’ll see ya in the mornin’.”

“Of course, Eggsy. I love you.”

“Love you too.” 

And there’s a part of him, as he’s going up the stairs, that misses her coming up to his bedroom and tucking him in. Reading a silly bedtime story. His dad may have never been home, but his mum was always there for him when he needed it. He needed to repay her. Debt seemed to be common in the Unwin family, if what Harry had been saying was true.

Without receiving another beating, and seeing that his mum was untouched, Eggsy was able to roll into his own bed this time without so much as a second thought. He checks his phone - which he had almost forgotten at Jamal’s, but his friend had run down the street to pass it off to him. The look Jamal had given him was a weird one, mentioning something about an odd number trying to call him multiple times but every time he had picked it up, they hung up. Eggsy unlocked the phone and looked at the number, not recognizing it. As he went to plug in his phone, it began to rang - the number showing up on the screen.

Eggsy finally answered it. “Hello?”

“Eggsy, finally. You need a new phone. This one is too easily traced.”

Fucking Harry. “Look, bruv, I don’t need a new phone. You’re just a nut-”

“When you’re ready to stop putting your life on the line, come down to the tailor’s shop on Savile Row. You’ll know it when you see it.” And the line disconnects. Eggsy laughs and throws the phone into his sheets, rolling over onto his side. The man is absolutely batshit insane. Secret agencies, owing his dad a debt… It doesn’t make sense.

But a part of Eggsy is a little bit curious.

It takes him a week, sore and tired, to catch a bus down to London. Along the way, he chucked his phone in the bin, leaving his tracing signal in the middle of nowhere. The streets are jam packed with tourists and important business workers, wearing their posh suits and beautifully tailored skirts. Eggsy keeps his hands in his hoodie’s pockets as he shuffles through the crowd, making his way to Savile Row. 

It’s quieter along Savile, and Eggsy’s eyes immediately fall upon a tailor shop named Kingsman. As he steps up to the sign, his jaw drops a little bit. He may know nothing about the craftsmanship of suits, but these look absolutely exquisite. Something that belongs in an art gallery. He opens the door and the first thing his sight falls upon is Harry, wearing something that should maybe be in said art gallery. It’s charcoal coloured, well fitted, with a white pocket square, and a striped blue, red, and white tie. He appears to be measuring fabric, a rose gold watch peaking out the edge of his jacket. Harry lifts his head when he hears the bell of the shop.

“I know you ain’t a tailor,” Eggsy smirks and walks up to him. Harry smiles. “So where’s my new phone?”

Eggsy watches as Harry sets down his tools and opens a drawer, producing an iPhone. “I have my number already entered into it, and you’re very welcome to use it to call your mother. But I ask that you refrain from putting any more people in danger. I would like you to stay in London.”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? No way.”

“I thought you were ready.”

Eggsy snorts. “Don’t you think it’s a little bit early in our relationship to move in together, luv?” He takes the phone and immediately unlocks it, noticing that it’s no different than a regular phone. 

“Do you want Jamal’s mother to be shot? What about Ryan? I know you don’t want any of that. I’ve got people protecting your mother. If that man, Dean, lays a hand on her, I’ll make sure he’s taken to court on multiple accusations. We work wonders at Kingsman. But that’s only possible you if work with us. We have to figure out what these men want with you, Eggsy.”

Eggsy narrows his eyes at him, slides the phone into his hoodie pocket. “Alright, alright. Only if my mum is safe.”

“I assure you, Eggsy.”

“Good. Let’s go out for a pint. I need one to fucking get my head wrapped around this bullshit.”

Harry raises an eyebrow but collects a set of keys, which Eggsy catches the Kingsman golden logo dangling from. “What kind of car are we drivin’?”

“We’re walking. I don’t like to drive in this horrendous downtown traffic. I know a place around the corner.” Harry walks Eggsy out, his hand brushing against the small of his back. Eggsy takes a step forward quickly, almost tripping down the steps. Harry doesn’t notice as he locks the shop up, twisting the sign to ‘closed’. 

Harry wasn’t kidding, it was just down the street and around the corner. As they enter The Windmill, Eggsy’s stomach suddenly growls. They sit at the bar and Harry orders a pint of Guinness and Eggsy orders whatever’s most expensive. Soon enough, two glasses filled to the brim are in front of them and Eggsy, without reserve, asks for a basket of fish and chips. The bartender gives him a look but rings it through and Harry seems unmoved by Eggsy’s actions.

“So it’s been a week and a bit,” Eggsy lowers his voice, looking around the nearly empty bar. “No one’s tried to kill me yet. I figured it was safe to come out to London. Tada.” He takes a swig of his beer, making a face at the hoppy taste. Maybe the most expensive beer wasn’t the best choice. He looks over to see Harry taking a sip of his drink, and a small smile spreads across his face.

“Lovely.” The man mutters to himself as he takes a second sip.

“So.” Eggsy watches the bartender shake a martini. Pours it over ice. “What exactly happened to my dad?”

“Not the best place for discussion.”

“Then why the fuck are we here?”

“You’re the one who wanted a pint.”

Eggsy grumbles and wraps his fingers around the glass. He’s not entirely sure he wanted a drink - something to maybe just take the edge off this whole situation. “Did you… y’know.” Eggsy looks at the bartender, who’s over at the blender. He lowers his voice. “Kill that bloke?”

Harry casually sips his drink and nods. Eggsy turns to look at Harry, amazed as how relaxed the man is about the whole ordeal. A silence stretches between them as they sip at the glasses, and Eggsy watches Harry out the corner of his eye. The man has an almost predatory stance to him, back straight and poised like a proper prick. As Eggsy goes to open his mouth, the fish and chips arrive in front of him, smelling absolutely amazing. As he picks up a piece, he glances at Harry to offer him a bite. The man, all of a sudden, is not enjoying his pint. Before Eggsy can ask what’s wrong, a small cannister is thrown through a window and begins to fill the room with smoke.

“Eggsy, get down!” Before Harry can shove him to the floor, Eggsy already knows the drill. His Marine training has got him through tough times, such as three on one attacks, but he never thought he’d run into a smoke cannister outside of training. Eggsy takes a quick scan of the place, noticing the windows are closed, and seeing that the door has been barred from the outside. Eggsy scrambles forward and picks up a glass ketchup bottle from one of the tables and throws it out the window. It shatters and Eggsy begins a running start to the window. As he jumps out and lands on his side, Harry follows out shortly, landing on top of him. The man’s heavy and probably all muscle, and the weight makes his shoulder throb with pain.

“Jesus, fuck!” Eggsy struggles to get out from underneath him while Harry is all too quick to get to his feet and grab Eggsy by the aching shoulder.

“Follow me.” Harry begins to take off back towards Savile Row, and Eggsy has no choice. He tries his hardest to duck behind cars as several men in black suits fire in their direction. There is  _ no way in hell _ that Eggsy is being shot for the second time in a month. The men hop back into the car and this gives Eggsy the perfect chance to follow Harry across the street, keeping as low as he can. Finally, Eggsy realizes why Harry grabbed his keys.

A gorgeous blue and white BMW S1000RR motorcycle stands in pristine condition shortly ahead of them, which Harry seems to be making his way towards. When Harry basically shoves the helmet in his direction, his chest nearly explodes, as if the adrenaline wasn’t enough for Eggsy before. Quickly throwing the passenger pegs down, Eggsy jumps onto the back of the bike and throws his arms around Harry. The bike comes to life and Harry quickly pivots it on the front wheel, turning them in the opposite direction in under a second. 

Eggsy can’t even hear the sound of the gunfire over the engine of the bike. To be honest, Eggsy is completely surprised on how well Harry knows how to handle a motorcycle. He watches the man’s hand on the throttle, his grip twisting as they pass by cars and cut a sharp left in between traffic into an alley. The sound of police sirens echo through the city. 

Harry wastes no time, leans left and then right, cutting close corners, and Eggsy is literally on the edge of his seat the entire ride. It takes everything he has not to whoop in joy, but it doesn’t stop him from looking over his shoulder and sticking out his middle finger.

They stop for a moment and Harry looks over his shoulder at Eggsy. “You okay?”

Eggsy doesn’t even say anything, just nods fervently before giving Harry once extra squeeze. Out of all possible reactions, Harry laughs, twists the throttle, and dumps the clutch. The front tire lifts off the ground for half a second before it smoothly comes back down as they speed off.

A majority of the ride is in the dark; underpasses, side alleys - anything to avoid any traffic that might signal their chasers to their location. Eventually, they come to a stop in an underpass where Eggsy slides off the back and throws his arms up in the air.

“Holy shit! That was fuckin’ amazing! I had no clue you could drive a motorcycle like that!”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Eggsy,” Harry adjusts his suit, brushing out the creases. He fondly touches the bike’s gas tank. “But do you believe me now?”

Eggsy’s adrenaline finally starts to come down as the realism of the situation finally dawns on him. People are out to capture him, and possibly kill him. But for what? Eggsy has no clue what knowledge he possesses that might be of any use to them. 

“I’m taking you back to my place. I’ll call a different car and leave the BMW here.”

“We can’t just leave her!” Eggsy sidles up to the side of the bike and touches the seat, running his hand over the handlebars. Harry pulls out his phone. “She doesn’t deserve this!”

Harry fights to roll his eyes against him and turns around, talking on the phone. Eggsy hops onto the seat and sits down, eyeing the keys in the ignition. He looks to Harry, back turned to him, and looks back to the keys. It wouldn’t hurt-

“No, Eggsy.”

Eggsy folds his arms and balances the bike, huffing.


	4. Flesh and Bone

“Now will you tell me what happened to my dad?” Eggsy lags behind Harry, looking over his shoulder almost every minute. They enter Harry’s house together, which Eggsy had hardly paid attention to the first time he was here. He was a little too concerned with getting the hell out and saving his own ass. 

“Now is not the time, nor the place.”

“You said-”

“I know what I said, Eggsy, but please. Be patient.”

“You owe him a debt,” Eggy interjects. “What is that debt? What makes all of this so important that you have to risk you life for me? Although I have to admit - that was mad, bruv. If I’m sticking around, we need to do that again.” Albeit the conversation, Harry grins to himself slightly before straightening out. “Harry, you need to tell me. I ain’t leavin’ this one up in the air.”

“I know.” Harry repeats, “I know. Let me get cleaned up before we sit down and have a drink. Sound fair?”

Eggsy nods. Not that Harry needs much of a clean up. His hair is unkempt but it looks good on him. Amazingly good. He can see the sweat glistening on the back of Harry’s neck, the flush in his cheeks from such an enthralling ride.

“I’ll just wait down here then.”

Eggsy nods and steps into the dining room, eyeing the photos on the walls. As he gets closer, he starts to notice that every photo is a painting. There’s captions under each one, for when the photo was taken and when the painting was done and the artist’s name. The name Merlin pops up frequently, and Eggsy begins to gather that it’s the painter. The attention to detail is amazing. Especially in the one where Harry is shaking the Prime Minister’s hand.

Seriously. Who is this guy?

Eggsy meanders until he sits down and pulls out his phone. No texts. For a moment, Eggsy wonders if any of today’s chaos got onto the news. He quickly picks himself up and heads to the living room, where he finds the remote and turns on the TV. Scrolling through until he finds the news, Eggsy leans back into the couch and gets comfy. 

Nothing catches his eye until the story about the “Shooting on Savile Row” comes on, and Eggsy immediately sits up straight.

_ A group of shooters at Savile Row targeted a nearby restaurant around noon. Several people were injured in the shooting, and four were taken to hospital. The attackers took off in a black jeep. Reports say that the assault was not targeted— _

“Not targeted? Look at them!” Eggsy yells at the TV. “They’re fuckin’ armed to the teeth! In tactical gear!” He crosses his arms and leans back into the couch. Images snapped from people’s phones are shown, depicting the men in riot gear, hanging out the doors of the jeep. He’s absolutely amazed no one caught photos of him and Harry running away. The memory of the motorcycle getaway makes Eggsy squirm - he liked driving cars, and he liked driving them fast. But there was something about the way Harry Hart knew how to handle a motorcycle that drove him absolutely mad (with a tad bit of jealousy thrown into the mix). 

As the news program runs through, and they move onto the weather, Harry comes down in casual slacks and a grey sweater vest. Does the man not know the concept of cozy clothes?

“Hey, Harry - any idea why the news is saying that attack wasn’t targeted when you know, it clearly was?”

“Kingsman have friends - loyal friends. If we don’t want something in the news, we can have people help us. Granted, individuals can upload photos onto social media, but we do our best to bury them. There’s no need to attract attention, any further than we already have.” Harry rolls up his sleeves and sits down beside Eggsy.

“Has life ever been this exciting for you?” Harry smirks and picks up the remote, changing it to a global news station. Eggsy rolls his eyes and takes the remote back, flicking through until he finds an action movie. There’s gunfire among a car chase scene, and Eggsy is grinning ear to ear. 

“Of course. Who do you take me for?” Eggsy lifts up his hands and pretends to fire them at the TV screen as a man dies on screen. “When you gonna teach me how to shoot a proper gun?”

Harry shakes his head, leaning over to take the remote from Eggsy once again. Eggsy pulls it away and shakes his finger at Harry. “I’m not. That isn’t your jurisdiction.” And when Eggsy makes a pouting face, Harry can’t help but laugh. “I’m serious, Eggsy. I don’t want to put you any further in harm's way than you are now.”

“Exactly! Teach me how to defend myself. Give me a sidearm. I’ll pop those baddies in the face before they even get a chance!” 

Harry looks over at Eggsy, and Eggsy can see a twitch in Harry’s mouth. A small irritation that makes Eggsy want to keep pressing, but he keeps his mouth shut about any sort of comment.

“So. I think this is the time and place,” Eggsy holds Harry’s gaze, and the man breaks eye contact. There it is. That guilty look that Eggsy has seen before. There was no way that he wasn’t going to find out exactly what happened now. “I want to know what happened to my dad.” Eggsy turns his whole body in Harry’s direction, and he can see Harry fighting the urge to get up. 

“Eggsy-” Harry turns away.

“No, Harry.” He reaches out and grabs Harry’s arm, anchoring him to his place on the couch. “Please.”

A moment passes before Harry gently takes Eggsy’s hand and removes it from his arm. “Let me grab a drink and I’ll be right back.” Biting his lip, Eggsy hesitates but lets go, allowing Harry to get up and disappear to the kitchen. He pulls his legs up and sits cross-legged, resting on his elbows. Eyes flickering back to the TV, Eggsy wonders what torments Harry so much about his father’s death. It feels an awful lot like it was his fault. A sudden bitterness rises in his chest as Harry comes back into the room.

“Do you like scotch?”

“Wouldn’t know - think I got money for this kinda stuff?” Eggsy takes the glass from Harry, feels the dip in the couch as Harry sits back down beside him, their knees almost touching. 

“I suppose not,” Harry offers him a small apologetic smile and Eggsy shrugs.

There’s an awkward silence as Eggsy watches Harry take a sip before holding the tumbler in his hands. He leans forward slightly, clearing his throat. 

“Your father was a Kingsman, as I said previously. We aren’t always sent on the safest of missions. Regardless, each one is handled with poise and precision. Your father risked his life for the team, and in turn, my calculations weren’t correct. I had lost my patience with an interrogation, and your father jumped on a grenade, which saved the lives of everyone in the room. I respected your father prior to the accident, and afterwards, I had to set things right. The pendant you’re wearing,” Eggsy touches the K symbol, before taking a heavy swig of his scotch. The alcohol burns his mouth and his throat, but he manages to swallow it. Comfortably numbing. “The number on the back is a number that you can reach me through. I wanted to make sure that if anything ever happened to you, I could help. I thought it was the way to repay him. I met you when you were quite small. Your fascination with snowglobes has clearly disappeared.”

Eggsy grins, remembering his father’s collection. Paris, Rome, Berlin - none of it made sense for snowglobes, which made it all the more amusing. 

“You’ve grown into a strong young man, Eggsy. I know about your training with the Marines, and your resignation - the drugs, the bad decisions. Why did you quit? What happened?”

Suddenly, a burst of anger comes out of Eggsy. “You happened! My father was never an aristocratic prick - he shouldn’t have died saving your ass! I went back to mum because there was no way I was going to leave her behind like my father did. She is the most important person in my life. There is no one else to look out for her!” Eggsy finally stands up, setting his drink hard on the side table. “It’s pricks like you that we die for - those people who were after me sent people to the hospital! Did you know that? They didn’t deserve that. The only reason those men were after me is because of the stupid Kingsman organization! Without it, dad would still be alive, and mum would be fine!” 

“Eggsy.”

“But instead, we’re fucked. I’m fucked. I have these men chasing after me for whatever fuckin’ reason, I don’t fuckin’ know. Fuck!” Eggsy puts his hands on his head and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm down. The anger bubbling inside him is a fresh feeling, a wound that he thought he had closed up years ago. He can’t remember the last time he was this infuriated and frustrated.

“Eggsy.”

“What?” He turns around and looks at Harry, feeling his exasperation pouring out. For the first time in months, he feels a sharp prickling feeling at his nose and his eyes grow heavy and there’s tears forming. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t known. He thinks of the picture in his wallet of his dad’s cadet photo, and his chest aches. Harry stands, reaches out with his arms, and Eggsy steps forward without hesitation.

Harry’s arms around him are warm and comforting.

“I can assure you, they won’t get to you. I promise, Eggsy.” Harry squeezes him gently, who takes in a sharp breath at the feeling of Harry’s hands on his back, pulling him close. “I’m sorry about your father. If only I had been more cautious.” Eggsy knows that Harry means it, and there’s a part of him that already forgives Harry. It’s been years, and he’s moved on with his father’s death - but the new information adds a different perspective. Momentarily, he wonders how close his father was to Harry. If Harry mourned his death as much as Eggsy’s mother had. There was no way that his dad’s death bothered Harry this much if they hardly knew each other.

Eggsy begins to pull away, and Harry moves his hands to his shoulders. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah. I think so. Thanks.” 

They linger for a moment, and Eggsy bites his lip as he looks up at Harry. He swallows thickly. He can’t remember the last time his tongue felt so heavy.

“Harry-” Eggsy’s voice breaks off for a second before he recovers, “Don’t blame yourself, yeah? I’m… sure you did the best you could have.” And Eggsy pulls away, removing Harry’s hands from his shoulders. Even through the frustration, Eggsy can’t forget that Harry has put his life on the line twice now for him. It’s more than anyone else has ever done for him, and he’s grateful for it.

“Thank you.” The warm sincerity in his voice makes Eggsy’s cheeks flush. 

“Any chance we can get dinner on, or somethin’?” He tries to move off the topic, figuring that it’s been enough emotion for one day. He didn’t even get to bite into his fish and chips.

“Of course.” Harry nods and steps out of the living room and into the kitchen, letting Eggsy follow behind him.


End file.
